


Team Ayatama

by ScottyMcDotty



Category: Naruto
Genre: OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:38:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScottyMcDotty/pseuds/ScottyMcDotty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is literally just a self-indulgent fanfic of some OCs in the Naruto-verse. But I'm kind of proud of it so here it is.<br/>(No specific canon characters or events.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Day

**Author's Note:**

> this is obviously super self-indulgent. like, so self-indulgent i barely even proofread it. so don't think too much about it.

As the sun was falling from its highest point on the eve of the Academy’s graduation, Ayatama Hyuga stepped through the door to the classroom. He tapped his knuckles against door frame, shaking Kotiri Umino from whatever concentrated state she was in.

“Oh, Ayatama! Early as usual, I see,” Kotiri said to him, straightening a stack of papers against her desk.

“Actually, I’m a bit late,” he corrected, smiling. He took a seat in the chair across from Kotiri’s desk, noticing her confused look. “I’m sure you’ve been very wrapped up in your work today.”

“Oh, yes, yes. I’ve met with all 10 jonin who will be senseis to my students today. It’s a bit heartbreaking seeing all of them leave, but it’s part of the job.”

Ayatama nodded in agreement. This class of graduating genin had been one of the largest in years and Kotiri, always dedicated to her students, worked double time during the graduation season to make sure her students were prepared for a great journey ahead of them.

“Now, I actually recommended you for your students,” Kotiri said, pulling three folders out of the stack. “It took a lot of convincing for Lady Hokage to let me make the team but in the end she agreed that I knew my students the best. I chose you as their sensei because of your knowledge of history and your dedication to your clan.”

Curiosity piqued, Ayatama opened up the first folder Kotiri handed him. A picture of a boy with black hair and bright eyes was affixed to the corner. His name was Marade Nokabuki and his grades were generally a bit above average, with a particular excellence in genjutsu.

“Marade Nokabuki might pose a bit of a challenge,” Kotiri started.

“Part of the acting branch, I assume?”

Kotiri smiled. “And it shows. More than once, he’s played me to get out of class and I was none the wiser. He excelled in genjutsu, which is no surprise, but he hardly even needs it. He’s easily disinterested but a good kid. He could use some focus, and I think you’re the one to provide it.”

Ayatama was already formulating lessons in his head. The Nokabuki clan was one of the first to catch his interest when he was a young child, first studying history, and he was excited to work with someone from the clan. They were an interesting and talented group of people, to be sure. 

“Here’s the next student.” Kotiri handed Ayatama another folder and when he opened it, a handful of pictures spilled out onto his lap. “Oh, damn. Sorry there’s so many pictures.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ayatama replied, gathering up the pictures. Curiously, there seemed to be two identical sets of pictures, one of his student facing forward, another of her facing to the side, as well as two similar pictures of her wearing a mask.

Ayatama opened up the file and scanned it over while he clipped the pictures back to the corner.

“She’s a Niimoto. We require people from her clan to separate their spirits for photos. You probably can’t tell from the pictures, but with those eyes I’m sure you’ll be able to tell the difference in real life. For the life of me, I can’t tell the difference, but I hardly have your eyes.”

Her name was Makoto and she lived up to her clan’s expectations. She had brilliant grades across the board, especially in her weapons and taijutsu classes. 

“She’s a brilliant fighter, Ayatama,” Kotiri said, pulling Ayatama’s eyes away from the paper, “but she lacks any critical thinking skills. She has absolutely no skills in leading and does anything anyone tells her. She has the potential to be a great leader-- the decisions she makes in battle are close to brilliant-- but she’s far from the track of the great Niimoto generals of the past. I know she’ll thrive with you.” 

Kotiri looked down at the final file. “The next I picked for your team because of your patience.” She handed the folder to Ayatama.

“Tasuke Ryokoka,” he read aloud. “Ryokoka. I don’t recall hearing that name much around here…”

“Exactly. He’s the first ninja from his clan.”

“The Ryokoka clan has been around since the beginning of civilization and they’ve never once produced a ninja. I think a lot of people were starting to count them out.”

“Tasuke is a very dedicated student… but… far from brilliant.” 

Ayatama scanned over his grades. Tasuke was below average in almost every category and those he excelled in were only marked with average grades. A far cry from the other two students. There was one grade, though. He had an almost perfect score in the category of survival; not that Ayatama should be surprised. The Ryokoka have travelled all over the world since the birth of their clan.

“I encourage you not to count him out, though. He works incredibly hard and already works with other shinobi outside of class. Only chunin have had the time for him and he’ll benefit from working with a jounin like yourself. But you’ll never guess what he’s accomplished.”

Ayatama looked up from the profile.

“He’s already developed something of a summoning jutsu.”

“A summoning jutsu?” Ayatama repeated in bewilderment. Rarely did genin master such a thing, and an academy student was unheard of.

“Well, sort of. You’ll have to see for yourself.” 

Ayatama stood up, tucking the three folders under his arm. “Thank you for meeting with me, Kotiri. I’m excited to see these kids and how far you’ve brought them.”

“And I’m excited to see how far you’ll take them, Ayatama.”

_______

 

The day of the academy graduation, the whole town seemed to be buzzing. Either that, or the excitement of the students was so great that it seemed that way. In the classroom, kids gathered around each other, sharing hopes of being on teams with their friends and sharing congratulations with each other.

The second Kotiri-sensei stepped into the room, the students hurried to their seats, eager to get the ceremony over with. Behind her were 10 other shinobi who carried themselves high with strong shoulders. Jounin, the highest common class of ninja. They were the 10 selected to be senseis to the graduating students. They were an odd assortment, but no stranger than any other collection of shinobi. One jounin was accompanied by a dog on a stiff harness. Another was accompanied by a strange buzzing sound. One had white eyes and many were battle scarred. The students went silent out of either fear or respect.

Kotiri-sensei opened up with a speech about what it means to be a shinobi and how hard they worked to get this far-- something all of the students had heard hundreds of time before. The students sat through it to get to the most exciting part, just waiting to see what their teams were like.

Tasuke Ryokoka glanced around the room. Most people in the room he only knew by name. He just hoped his team would be patient with his shyness.

As Kotiri-sensei’s speech ended and she unfolded a sheet of paper with a list of teams on it, Makoto Niimoto moved her mask around to cover her face. Her family taught her to always use it to hide her nervousness.

Kotiri-sensei read off three names at a time, and every time a group of students stood up and walked off with a sensei, the class’ eagerness grew. Anyone wanting a specific team felt their chances dwindle. Anyone fearing a certain jounin felt their chances of getting them rise. Marade Nokabuki felt a little bit of everything, but remained as cool as ever on the exterior, even cracking a joke to the person sitting next to him.

The jounin with eggshell eyes stepped forward, the second-to-last jounin in the room. “And with Ayatama Hyuga,” Kotiri-sensei announced, “will be Tasuke Ryokoka, Marade Nokabuki, and Makoto Niimoto.”

The three genin stood up and walked out of the room, leaving only Choichi Akimichi, Inoko Yamanaka, and Shikata Nara as the final team-- the third iteration of the Ino-Shika-Cho trio. Their team came as no surprise to anyone who knew their parents.

___

While most teams went right to the training field with their new senseis, Ayatama led his students to a tea shop around the corner. He wished to talk to his students first and he felt the quiet serenity of the tea shop was the place to do that. After getting their tea and food, Ayatama finally started the conversation. He could tell Marade was eager to talk, while the other two seemed content with silence.

“My name is Ayatama Hyuga,” he began. “I know it often goes without saying, but we jounin were selected for our teams based on our compatibility with the genin. I was chosen for your team because each of you have ties to your clan and all of your clans have historical backings. Aside from being a Hidden Leaf shinobi, I’m also a historical enthusiast, especially in the area of our village’s clans. 

“Normally, I like to start training sessions with ten minutes of peaceful meditation, but since this is our first day together, I feel that introductions are in place. I want you to tell me a bit about your clan, what your goals are, and a bit about yourself. I’d go first, but you seem eager to start.” Ayatama smiled at Marade, who was sitting in the middle of the team, grinning from ear to ear.

“Of course. My name is Marade of the Nokabuki clan. We’re a clan of performers and we put on the most beautiful shows around the world. We’re all masters in the performing arts.” Ayatama could already tell a lot about him. He had quite an ego on him, a bit over-proud. Kotiri’s warnings were floating around in the back of Ayatama’s head. He had the feeling Marade was always acting, from that smile to his eyes. Something about him seemed plastic. “I want to be an espionage agent, or work in the intel division. I want to be able to use both my performance skills and my skills as a shinobi in my life. I was born into the acting branch of my clan and pursued that until I decided to become a shinobi. I’m glad to have come this far and I appreciate your taking the time to teach us, sensei.”

Ayatama nodded and sipped at his tea. Marade was charming, but Ayatama couldn’t tell if it was an act or not.

“I’ll go next if neither of you want to.” Ayatama waited a moment, but when no response came he continued, “My name, as you know, is Ayatama. I was born into the lesser branch of the Hyuga clan, which is why I have this curse mark.” Ayatama pointed to the green X on his forehead. “It gives the main branch complete power over me, but I show it off with pride. I have broken the expectations of my branch and worked hard to free myself from them, but my history is important to me, as I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for my clan. I’ll achieved my goals with you three. I had successfully trained a whole team before you guys into chunin, and my goal is to train all of you into splendid ninja yourself. I’m excited to see you all grow-- it’s one of the most satisfying things any man can feel, seeing his pupils succeed.”

“That’s amazing,” Marade replied in a way that was neither sarcastic or serious, “raising yourself up from the bottom like that. Wearing that curse mark with pride. It all takes guts.”

“You could say that.” Ayatama looked to the girl with long, orange hair. “Makoto, why don’t you go next?” Tasuke breathed out a small sigh of relief.

Taking a moment, Makoto turned her mask to be over her face again. Ayatama took note of it. “My name is Makoto and I am a member of the Niimoto clan. Our elders say I inherited our Kekkei Genkai quite strong, with my second spirit being just as strong as my other. I already have suitors lined up because of it, but I hope to have many years of protecting and representing my village.”

“Why don’t you explain your Kekkei Genkai to your teammates, who may not know the intricacies of it,” Ayatama suggested, feeling Makoto hadn’t said much at all.

Makoto turned her mask to the back of her head, clearly more comfortable talking about the topic. “Every person born into the Niimoto clan has two spirits residing in their bodies. Shinobi from our clan have the ability to separate their second spirit into another physical form at the cost of half our chakra and accepting each other's’ damage.”

“Good, good.” Ayatama looked to his last student. “And you, Tasuke?”

Tasuke went white as a sheet. “I’m sorry,” he squeaked, “it’s just… I get nervous around people who are ranked higher than me…”

Of all the reason Ayatama was told he made people nervous, his rank was never one of them. Usually it was his height or his stern attitude. It made sense for Tasuke, though. Unlike Marade or Makoto, Tasuke wouldn’t have grown up around other shinobi, and especially not higher-ranking ones. From the way Kotiri made it seem, he may have never met a jonin before. “No, Tasuke. Don’t view it like that. In order for a student-teacher relationship to work, we can’t view each other based on rank. Our relationship much be based on respect; not fear. I only wish for your safety and education and I will defend both.”

Tasuke took a second to take in what Ayatama said. “I’m sorry,” he said and took and breath. “My name is Tasuke of the Ryokoka clan. I’m the first ninja from my clan and I want to prove we’re not outdated. A lot of people think we’re useless because we’re all mapmakers. They say the world’s already been mapped, so what’s the point? But I love my clan. We’re all very strong and very smart. We’ve been living in poverty for generations, now, and people were losing hope until I came around. I want to prove we’re still worth something.” He looked up at Ayatama. “I’m sorry if that was long, I just really love my family…”

Ayatama set down his tea and reached a hand out toward his student. “That was beautiful, Tasuke.” 

Tasuke shifted uncomfortably and went back to sipping at his tea, avoiding Ayatama’s eyes.

“Marade,” their sensei said, turning his attention back to the boy in the middle. “You said you wanted to use your performance skills as a shinobi. How do you plan on doing that?”

Of course, the question was all a ruse. He only asked it to get Marade to think, and his plan worked. For just a brief second, Ayatama saw the plastic look drop from Marade’s eyes, just as he processed the question. It didn’t tell so much about Marade, but it reassured Ayatama that his sharp eyes could pick up the subtleties of of Marade’s demeanor. 

The glazed, confident look soon returned though. “I moved in with the shinobi branch of my family. They’ve been teaching me how to talk around my opponents,” he gave a devious smile, “or talk through them.”

“You’re an interrogator,” Makoto cut in, saying exactly what Ayatama was thinking.

“Yes ma’am. They say interrogators from the Nokabuki clan can with a fight without landing a single blow. We’ve ended wars before they even started.”

“But the wars you can’t stop, the Niimotos win.”

“You’re both very proud of your clans,” Ayatama interrupted, sensing an argument, “and you both have reason to be-- we all do. Historically, both of your clans have been integral in the protection of our country, but one no more than the other. Every shinobi plays an equal part and you two shouldn’t rely on the history of your families to feel successful.”

Marade and Makoto fell silent, turning away from each other. It didn’t take Ayatama’s eyes to see how uncomfortable Tasuke was.

“I want to get to know the three of you better. We’re going to be doing an activity. I want the three of you to go home and bring two of the most important things you own to the west training field.”

Makoto shot her sensei an accusatory glance. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Ayatama said in response, “it’s part of an activity to get to know you better.”

“What kind of things should we bring?” Marade asked.

“Anything important to you for any reason. Finish up you tea and head out. Don’t worry about the bill-- it’s on me.”

 

___

  
  


The three reconvened in the training field, each genin standing in front of a training-worn wooden pillar. Ayatama stood in front of them.

“Marade,” Ayatama started, “why don’t you start us off again. Tell us what your objects are and why they’re important to you.”

“Of course.” Marade first presented a small book that was battered and worn. Some of the pages were sticking out, long since detached from its bindings. “It’s the script of the first play I was ever in. It’s about a courtroom of pigs accusing a wolf of destroying their homes. It’s one of my favorites and I always revisit it to go back to my roots.”

Ayatama took it from him carefully. “That’s very interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it. What else did you bring?”

“This.” Marade held up a pair of wooden blocks attached by a black and gold rope. The wood itself was scratched up and splintering, while parts of the rope were fraying. “My hyoshigi. They’re an instrument used in traditional Kabuki theatre, which my clan specializes in. The youngest clan members are given a set to participate in the gala shows every year. These were mine from when I was a kid.”

“I didn’t expect any less,” Ayatama said as he took the hyoshigi, slipping it into a pocket in his vest. Noticing a cocked eyebrow from Marade, Ayatama added, “Don’t worry about them. It’s part of the exercise.” He then turned to Makoto. “What did you bring?”

Cautiously, Makoto took a doll from inside her sleeve where her hands rested while idle. It was a simple doll wearing a tattered kimono. It had no face or hair. “In my family, we’re only allowed one toy as kids besides our cardboard ninja tools. Girls get dolls, boys get tops or marbles. If my father knew I still had this doll, I’d be dead.” 

Ayatama took the doll from her, handling it with great care. “Your secret is safe with us, I promise.”

“I also brought this.” Makoto dug around her pack until she found what she was looking for: a black Leaf Village headband, tarnished with wear. “It was my mother’s, before she had to quit being a shinobi to have children.”

Ayatama took it from her, putting it in the pocket next to Marade’s hyoshigi. “Her service will be missed.” He looked to his final student. “Tasuke?”

Blushing bright, Tasuke shook his head.

“No? Why not?”

“Mine are stupid compared to theirs…”

“I brought a book and a block of wood,” Marade told him, smiling gently, “they can’t be that bad.”

With only a convincing look from Ayatama, Tasuke presented his first object: a ceramic cat, pure white with a brown ear. “I really like cat figurines and… this was my first. Her name is Juliette”

“It’s lovely, Tasuke,” Ayatama smiled as he took the cat. He had to use a bit of force when Tasuke didn’t want to give it up. “What else?”

“My master map.” Tasuke held up a scroll, the edges of which were browned and curling. “Each region of the planet is broken up and labelled so we can find the right area in the library. They’re copied by hand and everyone in our clan has one.”

Ayatama nodded and took the scroll, placing it in the last pocket on his vest. “People always bring the most interesting objects to this exercise. Sometimes people bring exactly what I expect-” he held up Marade’s book, “-and sometimes it’s the opposite.” With the other two objects in his other hand, he held up Tasuke’s ceramic cat.

“But at the end of the day, they’re only objects.” In a change of mood so sudden that the genin had to take a minute to process it, Ayatama threw the cat on the ground, smashing it to pieces. 

“What are you doing!?” Marade yelled genuinely once the confusion cleared. He glanced quickly to Tasuke on his left, who was staring wide-eyed at the shattered remains of Juliette in disbelief. 

Marade fell on deaf ears, though. Ayatama turned next to the book, which was already in tatters, and ripped it clean in half. He made quick work of ripping the pages apart further, tearing them from their bindings. 

Despite the children’s protests, Ayatama continued on to the doll. He first ripped the head off, spilling the dry rice inside the doll all over the ground. Makoto ran at him, arms out, trying to swipe the doll from her sensei. Ayatama simply knocked her back with a swift palm to the chest, sending her to the ground. As she regained herself, Ayatama tore the fabric of the doll, dropping the shreds. 

When Makoto tried to reach for one of the piece, Ayatama stepped on her wrist with just enough pressure to keep her hand away from the doll. “Leave it. It’s gone now. You need to worry about something else.” He tapped the row of pockets on his vest where he put all of their second objects. “I’ll break them too if you can’t get them back.”

Makoto wrenched her hand free and stood up. “Well, just- just… give them back!” she pleaded.

“Get them back,” Ayatama instructed.

After a moment of dumbfound stillness, Marade reached his hand out toward his sensei with the intent of opening the pocket, but Ayatama took the boy’s wrist and used it to spin him around and push him back. 

Marade and Makoto stared at Ayatama, hurt and speechless. 

“What the hell!?” Marade shouted, his voice cracking. He quickly cleared his throat and put up that mask of his.

“Do you want them back?” Ayatama asked blankly.

“Yes!”

“Then get them back.”

While the wheels in Marade’s head started spinning, Makoto turned her wooden mask around to cover her face as she charged at Ayatama, fists clenched. 

Ayatama ducked under Makoto’s fist and swept her legs out from under her. Makoto caught herself on her hands and pushed herself back up as Ayatama backed away from the three posts, giving himself plenty of room around himself.

Tasuke watched on in horror as Makoto unsheathed her weapon from the bow on her back. She wielded two kusarigamas-- small sickles attached to weighted chains. The ends of the chains remained attached to Makoto’s waist as she threw them toward Ayatama, allowing her to throw them with no regard of losing them.

Ayatama reacted quickly, though, grabbing both the chains in his hand and heaving them forward. Makoto barreled forward with them, skidding across the ground. 

Marade used the moment of distraction to use his attack. He threw two kunai knives in rapid succession, running up behind them. 

Ayatama had lightning-fast reflexes. He threw a pair of his own kunai, knocking Marade’s out of the air. As his pupil ran toward him, Ayatama quickly turned around and knocked the real Marade back with a palm to the chest. Infused with chakra, the hit send Marade reeling to the ground. Dazed, Marade forced himself sitting up, his chest sore and the wind knocked from his lungs. All he choked out was, “How..?”

“You’re probably not used to performing a visual genjutsu on someone with an optical kekkei genkai.” Ayatama turned to face Marade, the veins around his eyes bulging. Before he could explain, he spun and knocked both of his palm into Makoto’s chest. He didn’t even flinch when a seemingly identical clone of Makoto jumped out from behind her, the sickle of her kusarigama at the ready. As he dodged the attack, he jabbed his fingers into the back of the second Makoto’s shoulder. When she hit the ground, her arm fell, seemingly weighed down by the sickle.

“How did you know we split?” she asked, her voice hot with anger. 

“With my byakugan activated, I have 360-degree vision. It also allows me to see the chakra flowing through your bodies, and I’m not ignorant. I know how the Niimoto kekkei genkei works-- in order to achieve two forms, you have to split your chakra evenly among them. When I saw how little chakra you had after such little fighting, I could only make one assumption.” He looked down at the second Makoto, who struggled to lift her arm. “The way Hyugas fight involves cutting off the flow of chakra to certain points of a person’s body. Don’t worry too much about it, it’ll heal.”

Makoto’s scowl could be felt through her mask. She stood up, fighting mad, this time assisted by her second form, Marade following suit. Every attack they made, Ayatama easily disengaged, sending the genin two steps back for every step forward they progressed.

When Makoto and Marade finally gave in, the sky was in the first stages of changing colors with the setting sun. The two genin knelt on the ground, panting, swelling bruises all over their bodies. With every hit they took from Ayatama, their chakra stagnated in their bodies, leading to a deep-rooted exhaustion. 

After several seconds where neither Marade nor Makoto made a move, Ayatama called it for them. “I know you don’t want to, but I’m calling it for you.”

“Not until I get my mother’s headband back,” one of the Makotos panted.

“Then get it back,” Ayatama retorted.

“Why do you keep saying that!”

Ayatama narrowed his eyes at Makoto. He walked over to Tasuke, who was still standing against the post. “Tasuke,” Ayatama called, making Tasuke flinch. “Why haven’t you attacked me?”

The fear around Tasuke was nearly tangible. His heart raced and his shoulders tensed before he fell to his knees, bowing to the ground in front of Ayatama. “Please,” he begged. “Please let me have my map back. I don’t care that you destroyed Juliette-- she was only mine-- but my map represents my connection to my family. Please, please may I have it back.” Tears started to well up in Tasuke’s eyes as he begged.

Ayatama stood over Tasuke, making the genin’s chest tense up. He reached for the pocket in his vest and pulled out the scroll. The three genin held their breath as they waited to see what he’d do with it.

Tasuke looked up slowly, fearing the worst. Ayatama kneeling down in front of him, holding out the scroll, didn’t instantly fill him with relief. He took it from his sensei, very carefully.

“Fighting isn’t everything,” Ayatama said, standing up and facing the others. He pulled the hyoshigi and the headband from his vest and tossed them to his students.

As Makoto’s two forms stepped back into each other, Marade looked up at his sensei in confusion.

“Tasuke never answered my question.” He looked to Tasuke and repeated “Why didn’t you attack me?”

Tasuke hesitated before answering, “Uhm… because you’re a jounin. And twice my age. I… I couldn’t have taken you on.”

“Exactly. If this had been a real battle of you three new genin against a jounin such as myself, you could’ve ended up dead or worse. If you were willing to die for a doll and a book, how important is it that you’re willing to die for your village?” He continued, as his students had fallen silent. “If I’m saying anything too heavy for you, feel free to quit as a shinobi now, because someday these--” he took the cat, book, and doll out of his pack as the substitute refuse disappeared in a puff of smoke, “--are going to be human lives.”

Marade stared at the book as Ayatama handed it back. It felt different in his hands. So close to losing it, he felt like he could never let it go again. Yet, at the same time, it seemed much less significant. As emotions bounced around in his chest, he put up the defense of a blank face.

The three genin stood up, clutching their objects close. Makoto couldn’t get the idea of it representing a human life out of her head. She was raised to feel that human life is disposable for the greater good, but everything she knew was suddenly turned up on its head. 

“Don’t put those away quite yet,” Ayatama said, sending a wave of dread over his students. “Sit down. I want to show you something very personal to me.”

The three genin obliged, leaning up against the three posts again. Tasuke glanced nervously at Marade, who seemed unphased by what had just happened.

Ayatama reached into his pack and pulled out two chains. Hanging on the bottom of one was a pendant of a beetle encased in amber. The pendant of the second chain was a long canine tooth. “These belong to my two teammates from genin rank: the beetle belongs to Shiono Aburame, and the tooth to Ashi Inuzuka. On our first day as a team, our sensei had us give an irreplaceable object to each of our teammates under these conditions: First, we are not to explain the significance of the objects to anyone. You can explain the situation, but never why the object is important.

“Second, you must treat the object as you would treat it as if it were your own. Your teammate is trusting you with something irreplaceable to them. It should be considered as sacred as any of your own possessions.

“Third, only the person currently holding it can give it back, hand-over-hand; and you can only get it upon the retirement of yourself or your teammate. If they die, it stays with them.”

“I’m not giving it up,” Makoto spat as soon as Ayatama finished.

“You’re not giving it up,” Ayatama explained. “You’re trusting your teammate with the possession it. It’s still completely yours, and your teammate violating that is violating the sacred trust between teammates.”

“What’s this supposed to do?”

“If the only reason to protect your teammate is to protect the object in their possession, then so be it. It’s more than that, though. If you can’t trust a teammate with your doll, or your book, or your map, then you can’t trust them with your life. If you can’t trust another shinobi with your life, or you can’t be trusted with another shinobi’s life, then you’re unfit to even carry the title of ‘genin’.”

Ayatama looked down at his students. They all avoided his eyes. Not to mention their silence aggravated him. “Don’t you get it?”

“The objects represent our lives,” Tasuke answered, even if only to avoid Ayatama yelling. “You said it all… it’s just a lot to take in.”

Ayatama took a breath and knelt down to meet their eyes, putting them on the same level. “You’re right. I’m sorry. My last team was much more vocal about it. I shouldn’t have assumed your behavior based on theirs. But I still feel like you’re missing something here.”

After a moment of contemplation, Marade raised his head. “You want us to give our lives to our teammates. But, like… handing over the objects.”

Ayatama smiled at him proudly. “Exactly.” He motioned for them to start trading objects.

First was Marade, who handed the book to Tasuke and the hyoshigi to Makoto. Marade smiled, but Ayatama didn’t feel that it was genuine. 

Tasuke handled the book like it was made of glass, but swallowed any nervousness. Next, he handed the scroll to Makoto, assuring her that he didn’t need it anymore because he’s memorized it. He had a much harder time giving the ceramic cat to Marade, taking a moment to kiss it before handing it over.

Makoto hesitated with her objects. 

“Do you have anything to say, Makoto?” Ayatama asked.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know if I can do it…”

“You? I’m surprised. The Niimoto clan doesn’t live a material life.”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t know if I can trust them with my life.”

Ayatama tried the best he could to hide his surprise. Niimotos were often raised to treat their own lives as worthless. Makoto was the last person he expected to have difficulty with this exercise. “You told me you wanted to protect and represent your village,” he told her gently. “A ninja willing to entrust their lives with their teammates will protect the village the best, as well as be the best representation of it. If these two break your trust, there will be punishments beyond anything physical. The trust between shinobi is sacred.”

Although Ayatama still felt it wasn’t entirely genuine, Makoto stiffly handed her doll to Marade and her mother’s headband to Tasuke. Ayatama wondered what her face looked like under that mask of hers.

“Before I send you home for the day, I wanted to thank you. Thank you for cooperation, your dedication to our village, and for the honor of getting to teach and train you all.”

“Thank you, Sensei,” the genin responded as the sky turned orange with sunset.


	2. Some Heavy Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tasuke talks to some people (which is surprising, considering how little Tasuke talks)

By time Tasuke got home, the sun had gone to sleep. He stepped into his house quietly, as not to disturb anyone. He sat down on the landing and took off his shoes, idling on the step, letting thoughts run through his head. 

He wanted to think in quiet, but someone must have been waiting up for him. One of the doors in the house opened and a voice called out, “Tasuke? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” Tasuke hissed into the darkness.

His father walked up to him, limping on his bad leg, and sat down next to Tasuke on the landing. “You’re home later than I expected.”

“Yeah, I stopped in the field to pick dandelions.” He unwrapped the dandelion stems from the leather pouch he put them in and handed one to his father, who accepted it happily.

After quietly munching on the stems for a bit, Tasuke’s father finally asked, “How was it?”

Tasuke was quiet for a second, considering his answer. “I don’t know. My sensei’s name is Ayatama Hyuga. My teammates are Makoto Niimoto and Marade Nokabuki. Ayatama-sensei said I was smart. I figured out the puzzle he gave us. I don’t know if I like the other two yet. They’re kind of weird.”

“You’ve always been like that, Tasuke. So nervous around other people. You’ve never let it stop you, though, so that’s what matters. I don’t know too much about this ninja business, but I know you’re going to make an excellent shinobi.”

“They haven’t seen me fight yet,” Tasuke said, trying to derail his father’s praise of him. He didn’t mind that his family was proud of him, but ever since he entered into the ninja academy, his family had all but suffocated him with praise and compliments. He was their pride and joy and he was scared of disappointing them.

“You weren’t born into a family of ninja. So what? You work harder than any of them, I’m sure.”

Tasuke stalled by taking a bite of his dandelion. “Ayatama-sensei had us do a strange exercise and… it scared me.”

“How so?”

Tasuke didn’t answer right away. He brought another dandelion stem to his mouth, but suddenly felt sick to his stomach. “Father, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“When you got hurt, were you scared of dying?”

His father suddenly became solemn. “I’m going to tell you a secret. You can’t tell anyone, okay? Especially not your mother.”

“I promise.”

“I’m worried about dying every day. Anything could happen any day and we could die, especially the way we live. My leg could give out on the street and I could get trampled to death. I could have a heart attack at any moment. I could get sick and we can’t afford help. Even this--” he held up a dandelion stem and took a bite out of it, “--it could be poisoned and we might not ever notice. Death is the only inevitability every human faces, Tasuke, and it’s a terrifying concept, but I could die right now and die happy.”

Tasuke looked up at his father a look of fear and confusion.

“I married a lovely woman, I’ve done some great work, and I raised a son who will bring myself and my whole family great pride. I have every reason to consider my life a success. If the accident had killed me, then so be it.”

“I’m sorry… I don’t get it…”

Tasuke’s father out a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You don’t fear death, son. That’s just what we say when we’re aware of the possibility.”

Tasuke took a moment to think, then leaned against his father’s shoulder. “We had to give up something important to each of our teammates. One of them has my master map and another has Juliette.”

“Well why’s that? You love Juliette more than half your family,” his father joked, mussing up Tasuke’s hair.

“That’s not true. And Ayatama-sensei made us do it. It represented giving up a part of ourselves to our teammates. I don’t know if I worked yet or not.”

“I think I’d like to meet this sensei of yours.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing people do…”

“Since when have you cared about what others do?”

Of course, that was one of the elements that Tasuke’s father projected onto him. In reality, Tasuke cared very much about what others do. He already stuck out like a sore thumb in his class, the last thing he needed was to stray from any social norms.

When Tasuke didn’t answer, his father sighed. “We can talk about that much later. You need to get to bed.”

Tasuke nodded and stood up, helping his father up onto his cane before making his way over to the room he shared with his cousins. His youngest cousins were all asleep, and the the older ones were awake reading by candlelight. Minato, the eldest cousin he shared the room with, tried to talk to him about his day, but Tasuke ignored him, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed without saying another word about his day. 

Minato didn’t ease up though. “Well, what’s your team like?”

“I’m sorry,” Tasuke answered in an attempt to disengage any conversation before it even started, “I have to get up early tomorrow. I’d like to just sleep now.”

“Okay. Sorry, of course. Will you tell me tomorrow?”

“Sure…” Without another word, Tasuke crawled into bed, staring out the window. His mind wouldn’t settle, but there wasn’t anything particular that occupied it. It was like there was a constant buzzing in his brain that he couldn’t shake. 

Tasuke had barely slept a wink by time the sun rose. To keep up his white lie to Minato, Tasuke got up and got dressed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake anyone. He picked up the large scroll from his corner of the room and slung it over his back. He’d hardly ever had to use it in battle, but he knew Ayatama-sensei would want to see him use it, so he brought it with him.

The air was still cold outside, as the sun had barely touched all the shadows yet. Anyone that walked the streets at such an hour seemed dead tired, dragging themselves to work and the like. 

As tired as the world was, apparently someone was still asleep. Someone had fallen asleep on one of the benches along the side of the road, their head resting uncomfortably on the back of the bench.

Tasuke recognized them. His name as Shikata Nara and he was well-known for falling asleep in class, but outside in the chill of dawn seemed unreasonable. Tasuke walked up to him, shaking him gently. Shikata sat up, grumbling something about already being awake. After he blinked away the sleep, he gave Tasuke a confused look.

“Were you out here all night?” 

After taking a second to process the question, Shikata sighed and answered, “No. I wish. But no. Our sensei told us to meet here this early but my mom forced me out of the house an hour ago to get a head start. I took a nap instead…”

“Oh. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be.” He gave Tasuke some kind of a look. It seemed like no matter how much sleep Shikata got, dark bags hung under his eyes and he couldn’t hold up his eyelids. “You got the Hyuga for a sensei, right?”

Tasuke nodded.

“My sensei was on a team with yours when they were genin. She doesn’t shut up about it. She doesn’t shut up at all. I can’t stand it. And making us meet this early? It’s such a drag. She had us out late last night anyways so what’s the point?”

Tasuke didn’t quite know what to say. He’d hardly ever talked to Shikata at the Academy-- not because they didn’t like each other, but because Shikata was always asleep.

“Sorry for complaining,” Shikata grumbled, rubbing his eyes, “you’re just the first person I’ve seen all day.

“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t have anywhere to be right now anyways. My team isn’t meeting until the afternoon.”

“Hm. What time is it?”

Another voice answered for him. “Show time! Show time!” Inoko Yamanaka, Shikata’s teammate, ran up to them, skidding on the gravel. He leaned in close to Inoko and kept going with some kind of song.

Tasuke had always found Inoko very strange, all things considered. Inoko had a very distinct look, wearing thick eyeliner and a piercing right through his septum. Tasuke’s parents would kill him if he came home looking anything like that, but Inoko’s parents were just as strange as he was.

Trailing Inoko was their final teammate, Choichi Akimichi, who was happily munching away on a well-decorated pastry. Tasuke liked Choichi. She was happy and nice. He also thought she was very cute, but a lot of the boys in his class disagreed because of her weight. Tasuke didn’t care much about that, though. Choichi had happy eyes and a personality as sweet as her appetite. When they were young, she would even share her lunches with Tasuke when he didn’t have anything to bring. As an Akimichi, it only went to show how nice she was.

“G’morning, Shikata, it’s nice to see you awake,” Choichi said, smiling big enough to distort the hearts on her cheeks. “Oh, and Tasuke! It’s nice to see you too!” 

“Good morning, Choichi. And Inoko.”

Inoko laughed at whatever he was singing to Shikata and sat down next to him on the bench, crossing his legs. “Hey, Tasuke. Sorry about that, the opportunity presented itself too well.” He planted a wet kiss on Shikata’s cheek. 

Shikata scowled and pushed him away, wiping the kiss from his face. “Would you quit being so excited in the morning?”

“Can’t help it,” Inoko shrugged. “There’s so many good things happening around us. Who knows why Ashi-sensei wants us here so early? She might teach us something cool.”

“She wants us here this early because she hates us.”

“The only one who hates us is you, Shikata,” Choichi giggled, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bench as Inoko.

“Only when he’s tired,” Inoko added, leaning over Shikata and smacking his chest. Choichi and Inoko laughed, Inoko much louder though. Shikata gave Tasuke an exhausted look.

“Uhm. So, uh, your sensei,” Tasuke said in a feeble attempt to save Shikata. “Tell me about them?”

“She’s wild,” Inoko answered, turning his attention away from Shikata in an instant. Shikata nodded his thanks and tipped his head back, falling asleep again.

“She was on a team with your sensei, wasn’t she?” Choichi asked. That was another thing Tasuke liked about her-- she always went out of her way to better include Tasuke in conversations. 

“Uh, yeah. Ayatama-sensei made us to this exercise they did as genin where we had to, like… give up something we find priceless. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Ashi-sensei made us fight her yesterday.”

“She beat the shit out of me,” Inoko added, matter-of-factly. “It was awesome.”

“She was brutal. Halfway through, Shikata just layed down and fell asleep.”

“I didn’t expect much less,” Tasuke noted, looking at Shikata, who was apparently fast asleep.

“Sorry I’m late!” Someone yelled, cutting their conversation short. A woman with wild hair and her huge dog walked up to them in a way that was far from subtle. She was no doubt an Inuzuka. Besides the tell-tale red markings on her cheeks, her brown hair was wild and she smelled of dog more than her actual dog. She sniffed at the air a couple times before snapping her head to Tasuke. Her eyes gave him chills. Once a deep grey, they’d since clouded over and distorted with blindness. Not helping was the look she gave him-- one of suspicion. “Who’s this, huh?” she asked, sniffing the air closer and closer to Tasuke until she was on his neck. 

“That’s Tasuke,” Choichi answered once she noticed Tasuke was struck dumb. “He’s Ayatama’s student.”

With that little bit of information, Ashi straightened up and let out a thunderous laugh, which woke Shikata from his sleep. “So  _ you’re _ that kid Aya was telling me about! The Ryokoka kid! Why didn’t you just say that?”

Tasuke started to answer, but he was cut off by Ashi herself. “Sorry for freakin’ you out, kid. The eyes tend to do that.” She winked at Tasuke, who was left speechless. “The name’s Ashi Inuzuka, and this is Shiromaru.” Ashi gestured to her dog, a big white thing with wiry fur and a scar across his face, narrowly avoiding his eyes. He barked and wagged his tail at Tasuke, who was suddenly reminded of how much of a cat person he was. “Did Aya show you my necklace?”

“Uhm, yeah. I guess he did,” Tasuke answered, despite finding it to be kind of a strange question. It’s not like he remembered what the necklaces looked like anyways.

“Yep, it’s from this bad boy right here.” Ashi pointed at the pelt on her back with both thumbs, grinning wide. Upon closer inspection, Tasuke noticed it was a dog’s pelt, its fur very similar in texture to Shiromaru’s. “You wanna know how I got the tooth?”

“Oh, don’t tell him,” Shikata said with a roll of his eyes. “You’ll freak him out.”

Ashi deemed to ignore him, though. She bent over to meet Tasuke’s level. Despite her total blindness, it seemed like she was staring right through Tasuke. “I had to wrestle Shiromaru’s mother to get permission to take him on as a partner. I knocked her tooth out and kept it as a prize.”

Well, Shikata was right. Tasuke was scared stiff of the crazy lady in front of him. He looked to Shikata desperately, but all he did was shrug and say, “I told you she’s insane.”

“Hey, quit it,” Ashi snarled at Shikata, who barely batted an eye at it. She turned her attention to Tasuke for just long enough to say, “It was nice meeting you!” before commanding her students to run to the training field and chasing after them. 

 

_____

 

They day dragged on as Tasuke wandered the streets idly, still nowhere near the time he was supposed to meet his team. It was a lot of work entertaining himself just to avoid Minato. He finally decided to just wait in the training field for them. He could read or pick flowers or watch the clouds… 

It didn’t honestly seem that bad.

He turned around to walk out of the main street of the village, but someone caught his eye. Ayatama-sensei wasn’t easy to miss. He already towered over his students and carried himself with such a refined demeanor that he stood even taller than he actually was. 

While Tasuke’s heart raced as he desperately tried to figure out if it would be awkward to walk up to him or not, Ayatama closed the gap once he noticed his student.

“Tasuke?” he called, walking up to him, “What are you doing out this early? We don’t meet for another few hours.”

Part of Tasuke was really hoping Ayatama wouldn’t notice him, because he didn’t know how to conduct himself in situations like that. “I was just… walking around. Catching some fresh air…”

Ayatama considered himself fairly adept in picking up people's’ ticks, but no one had to be to pick up Tasuke’s. Besides a slight stutter, he also had a unique habit of letting his sentences trail off, as if he was never sure of what he was saying. It struck Ayatama as strange, as he considered Tasuke the smartest of his students. 

Also, as someone who seemed to try his hardest at avoiding awkward situations, Tasuke did a terrible job at giving his conversation partner anything to work with. 

“That’s good. Fresh air clears the mind. Would you care to walk with me?”

“Oh, uh… Sure.” Tasuke walked alongside Ayatama, feeling dwarfed by him. Tasuke was already one of the smallest boys in his class, besides maybe Shikata, but Tasuke carried himself so small that it didn’t help. He wasn’t like Marade who, despite his size, could fill up the room, or like Makoto, who was already half a head taller than both her teammates.

“I just got out of a meeting with Lady Hokage. She’ll be assigning our team our first mission tomorrow. How do you feel about that?”

“Uhm… Kind of a lot of ways. I guess I’m excited for some things, but I’m mostly nervous.”

“Don’t worry too much about it. Genin-level missions are rarely anything difficult or nerve wracking. Hunting down missing cats, walking dogs, helping out on farms, and so on.”

“Oh, I know. It’s still scary, though. Usually people requesting missions like that are rich nobles…”

Ayatama had almost forgotten about Tasuke’s situation. The Ryokoka clan had been living in poverty for years. Tasuke had probably never seen any excess amount of money in his life. “Do rich people make you nervous?”

“A lot of people do,” Tasuke answered nervously, avoiding Ayatama’s eyes. 

“I hope I don’t,” Ayatama joked, smiling.

Tasuke didn’t say anything, and Ayatama knew exactly what that meant. That he made Tasuke nervous. Not that he wasn’t used to making young people nervous, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have the same effect on his students.

“Tasuke, have you eaten breakfast yet? I think having some one-on-one conversation would be nice.”

Tasuke wished he could lie, but all he’d had to eat since breakfast the day before was some dandelion stems. “No, I haven’t…”

“Come with me, then. It’s my treat.”

Ayatama led Tasuke to a small bakery on the edge of town. The scent of freshly baked breads and pastries made Tasuke’s stomach growl. He sat down to a plate of sesame muffins and a cup of tea, par Ayatama-sensei’s suggestion. 

Tasuke slung his scroll off his back and set it on the ground next to him. Ayatama nodded to it and asked, “Is that one of your family’s maps?”

“Oh, yes. I use it when I fight. To, uh, kind of summon terrain, I guess…”

“You’ll have to show me today. I’m excited to see you all fight, but especially you.”

Tasuke gave him a curious look.

“I’ve met enough Niimotos and Nokabukis to know how they fight. Makoto employs her kekkei genkai, although I will say it’s strange that she prefers taijutsu. Typically, her clan uses ninjutsu. Marade, on the other hand, is much less unique than he seems to think. Nearly everyone in his clan uses deceptive genjutsu. I would like to see more of his ability, though.”

“They’re both so good at fighting…”

“And I’m sure you will be, too. Kotiri’s told me you’ve been working with chunin outside of class?”

“Oh, yes. A man by the name of Kai Suzurei. He actually helped me make this scroll.”

“Kai Suzurei… He’s the one who uses summoning jutsus, right?”

“Yes. He’s an amazing fighter. Kotiri-sensei introduced us and he helped me develop a jutsu when he had the time.” Tasuke took a sip of his tea to steady his nerves before continuing. “Most people get to learn techniques from their families. But I’m the first shinobi from my clan…”

“You still learn valuable things from them, though. Your scores in survival training were amazing.”

“My father used to take me on long hikes with him before he got hurt. We would leave with nothing and he taught me what to eat and how to stay safe and how to tell the direction just from the sun and the stars. We used to do it all the time, sometimes as a whole family, but not so much anymore.”

“Your father was injured?” The question came off as more curious and less concerned as Ayatama had hoped.

Tasuke didn’t seem to notice, though. He only nodded in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. He’s okay, he just doesn’t walk as good anymore.” Tasuke suddenly remembered his conversation with his father the night before. “Oh, and, uh. He wants to meet you. To thank you for teaching me and to make sure he approves of you, I guess… He met Kai-sensei, too, but behind my back. I didn’t want them to meet…”

Ayatama cocked an eyebrow. “Are you ashamed of your father?”

Tasuke blushed bright red. “No! No, no, definitely not! I love my father, it’s just… We’re very different people, and he’s very protective of me, and I get worried about what he’s going to say to people… I guess… Yeah, I guess I get kind of embarrassed…”

Ayatama nodded. “You may be shinobi, but I guess you’re all still kids. I’m a long time past that, Tasuke. One of my old teammates and I are the oldest of the recent senseis.”

“Oh, I, uh… met one of your teammates today.”

Ayatama froze. He loved his old teammates, he really did… but he still prayed Tasuke hadn’t run into  _ her _ .

“She was… an Inuzuka?”

Of course. Shioni is too practical to be out this early. It wouldn’t be anyone besides Ashi. “Oh my… What did she say?”

“She was very strange. Loud, too.”

“Ashi really is a great woman and a stellar shinobi. I beg you not to judge her based on that encounter alone…”

“I’m sure she’s a great fighter. She told me she wrestled her dog’s mother as a child.”

Ayatama rolled his eyes. “She tells that story to everyone. It’s so embellished, though. She hardly ‘wrestled’ the dog. She smacked it on the nose and pinned it down. Don’t believe every story she tells you.”

“Oh… she’s still kind of scary.”

“Be careful when you talk about her. She once saved my life.”

Tasuke looked up at Ayatama, expectantly. 

“It’s a story for another day. But trust me, it wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t have her necklace. Speaking of which, do you have them?”

Tasuke nodded. “I don’t touch them unless I have to.”

“Good, good. I think you’re going to be a great ninja, Tasuke. I know you’ve probably been told that a thousand times, but I mean it.”

“I don’t think so… I’m too afraid of things.”

“If more of my friends were afraid,” Ayatama said staring down at his tea, “I might have more friends alive.”

Tasuke looked down, away from Ayatama-sensei. Of course he knew losing friends and teammates came with the job, but it’s something he didn’t like to think about unless he had to. 

“All I’m saying is that fear isn’t something to be ashamed of. It can keep you level-headed and logical. It proves you’re human. What you need to work on is not letting it consume you. Don’t let it stop you. I already know you’re a very defensive fighter, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The less involvement you have in a fight, the higher your chances of surviving it. Survival is a good thing, Tasuke. You of all people should know that.”

“This is all really heavy to be talking about over breakfast…”

Ayatama laughed, more or less as the look on Tasuke’s face than his actual words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re right. Let’s just eat and get ready for the day.”


	3. Some Real Fighting Sequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The genin finally fight in detail and Ayatama talks to some friends.

**** By time Tasuke and Ayatama-sensei finished breakfast and made their way to the training field, there wasn’t much time left to wait for the others. Ayatama sat down with a small book while Tasuke played a tune on a grass whistle. He was the best at it in his family besides his mother, who would pick blades of grass and whistle tunes every time she left the house, even just for errands. 

Marade’s singing voice carried over the hill before he appeared. He apparently knew the song Tasuke was whistling, because he was adding words over the melody, which would have been fun and rather impressive if it hadn’t been a song Tasuke was making up for fun. Marade and Makoto must have met up along their walk, because they walked up together, and Tasuke thought they were hardly the types to hang out with each other outside of training.

Ayatama looked up over his book when he heard Marade’s voice, smiling to his students. “Good morning, you two. How was your morning?”

“It was lovely. The weather is beautiful and I even had time to watch some of my cousins rehearse this morning,” Marade sat down and picked a blade of grass, talking as he situated it properly in his hands. “Also, my uncle gave me three more tickets to the show for you guys if you wanted to come next weekend.” He motioned at Tasuke to keep playing his tune, then added a harmony beneath Tasuke’s tune with his own whistle. 

“Thank you, but I won’t be able to,” Makoto responded. Everyone turned to her, which she didn’t terribly like. “I’ll be meeting with my suitors all next weekend.”

“Oh, I understand,” Marade nodded, despite not understanding at all. All he really knew about that Niimoto clan was that they were quite strange. 

“Thank you, I’d be glad to join you, Marade,” Ayatama said, standing up and putting his book away. “Are you ready to begin training?”

“Yes, sir,” the three genin responded in unison. They took their positions in front of the battle-worn posts with Ayatama standing in front of them.

“We’ll be receiving our first mission tomorrow, and in order for me to request one, I’ll have to know how each of you fight. I want each of you to come at me. I’ll be working only defensively, in order to observe how you perform. Don’t worry about landing a blow-- only focus on showing me what you can do.” Looking at his students, he knew Marade was eager to show off, while Tasuke was nervous about the whole ordeal. On a spectrum all her own, Makoto seemed indifferent at best. “Makoto, would you mind going first?”

Makoto nodded and stood, turning her mask around to cover her face. The two of them stepped away from Tasuke and Marade so they could have space without worrying about them.

While Ayatama-sensei activated his Byakugan and took stance, Makoto former her hands into a series of signs. “Ninja Art of the Second Spirit,” he murmured, “Spirit Split Jutsu.” There was a slight rumble beneath her skin before her second spirit began to step out of her body, first the mask exiting through the back of her head, then the hands through her shoulder blades, and finally the feet out of the original Makoto’s. Then, standing before Ayatama-sensei, stood a pair of identical, completely solid Makoto Niimotos. Two fully functional fighters, both with a pair of kusarigamas, and both with the same bloodless attitude carried by all Niimoto members. 

Makoto took off in a flash. One of them threw her kusarigamas at Ayatama, the other making a mad dash for him. When Ayatama hit the weapons out of the air with just the palm of his hand, he running form tucked and rolled past Ayatama, jumping back to her feet. 

The farther Makoto brought the kusarigamas back, the wire they’re attached to zipping back into the small back beneath the bow of her robe. She ran at Ayatama, weapons raised, and jumped at him as the form behind him spun her kusarigamas in the air, launching them at her sensei. 

Ayatama raised one hand to blast chakra into the Makoto rushing at him, holding the hand behind him to hit the kusarigamas out of the air behind him. 

Makoto didn’t doubt he would see the attack behind him.

As his palm made contact with Makoto’s body, it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Ayatama barely had time to turn and block the kick from the true form of Makoto, who was sliding on the ground, aiming at Ayatama’s groin. 

“Oh my god,” Marade muttered under his breath to Tasuke.

“I know,” he responded. “I can’t believe--”

“She tried to kick him in the nads.”

Tasuke gave Marade some kind of a look. It wasn’t the kind of response he had been expecting out of Marade, and was far from what he was expecting. Tasuke thought Marade was going to comment on how fast everything had happened.

Within milliseconds, Ayatama disarmed the substitution Makoto, processed that it was a substitution, disarmed the form of Makoto that threw the kusarigamas, and blocked the real form of Makoto’s low kick.

With reactions like that, it was no problem for him to grab the kusarigamas out of the air, just as Makoto was reeling them in, which caused her to pull herself towards the action on the wire of her weapon. 

Instead of letting that action completely disarm her, Makoto used it to her advantage and used the force behind her to add power to a kick, aiming both feet at her sensei.

Ayatama blocked the kick with a blast of chakra, sending Makoto’s feet to the ground, but this only worked against him. The other form of Makoto had locked her arms around the waist of her second form, and with the leverage provided from the attack, added power behind a headbutt from the first attacking Makoto. It was almost as if she was using her second spirit form as a battering ram, driving her skull into Ayatama’s stomach. With so little distance between Ayatama and the Makoto’s, the blow landed, pushing air from Ayatama’s lungs, but far from disabling him. 

Ayatama jumped back, flipping through the air to disperse some of the kinetic energy Makoto’s attack provided. He eyes up both the Makotos. One of them still had her arms locked around the other, and both were panting hard. 

“That’s good, Makoto,” Ayatama called to them.

They both nodded to him and dropped the tension in their shoulders, but didn’t fuse back together. 

“Why are you staying separated?” Ayatama asked. “Isn’t it unhealthy to stay separate for too long?”

One of the Makotos, the one used for the battering ram, lifted her mask. “If I fuse back with her, she’ll only take on all the pain I’m feeling. I’m waiting for it to dissipate.”

“And yes,” the other Makoto continued, “if we stay separate too long, we can develope too much seperately and have a heart time inhabiting the same body, but it’s something improves with how well the kekkei genkai is inherited, and I inherited it well. I can afford to stay separate much longer than most.”

“That’s very impressive,” Ayatama commented, walking up to the two forms and helping them to stand. “Tell me, Makoto, do you ever use ninjutsu?”

“No,” they both answered, but one continued on to explain, “I prefer taijutsu. With our chakra spread between two forms, using ninjutsu too often can wear us out too easily. We occasionally use substitution, transformation, and clone jutsus, but that’s it.”

“I understand. Thank you very much, Makoto.” He helped the pair of Makotos over to the post to rest, then stood in front of the team. “Do you have anything to say about Makoto’s style of fighting? It’s just as important that you both understand as well as myself.”

Marade threw his hand in the air and said, without Ayatama calling on him, “She tried to kick you in the nuts.” 

Ayatama flushed slightly at the comment, but cleared his throat and said, “Well… yes. And, honestly, I don’t blame her. It’s a weak point every male has. Playing dirty like that could mean the difference between winning and losing a match.”

Ayatama started to wonder if Marade was actually less refined than he liked to seem. At that last comment, Marade had dropped that mask-like appearance-- he was being entirely serious. “Marade, why don’t you go next?”

“Of course, sir,” Marade said, standing up. He had that plastic-like smile again, making it difficult for Ayatama to see what he was thinking.

“I won’t activate my Byakugan,” Ayatama said as they walked away from the other two, “since your deceptive genjutsu isn’t suited toward ocular kekkei genkai.”

“Oh, don’t worry too much about it. You still have four more senses to affect. Besides,” he gave Ayatama a concerning look, “I do want to be part of the Torture and Interrogation Force.”

If anyone else had said that with that look on their face, Ayatama might have been concerned, but he wasn't terribly worried about Marade. Marade always seemed to be playing pretend, and that concerning look was no different. “Very well.”

Marade formed a series of handsigns and caught Ayatama’s eyes in his gaze. “Noh Style: Kirino Jutsu.” 

Ayatama found the jutsu no surprise. The Nokabuki clan’s jutsus are all based around traditional theatre. The style denotes the type of theatre it’s derived from, and the name of the jutsu is subject to interpretation, but is often named after an element of the style of theatre. With a naming scheme so simple, Ayatama knew immediately that the jutsu would involve kirino, the goblin-like monsters from ancient Noh theatre. 

While Ayatama waited for a transformative genjutsu to turn his perception of Marade into a red-faced monster, something very different happened. A series of drum beats and notes from flutes rang in Ayatama’s ears, despite the lack of any instruments present.

Marade smirked, seeing the expression on Ayatama’s face. The jounin wasn’t the first person to guess wrong the type of genjutsu his Kirino Jutsu was. Marade took a fan from his pack and opened it up. He began to move in a way that was highly reminiscent of Noh theatre, with very specific movements and body language in time to the drum beats. 

Knowing something was genjutsu didn’t make it any harder for Ayatama to avoid. On top of that, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t release the genjutsu without knowing what kind it was. He wouldn’t, anyways, because he wanted to see what Marade would do completely unhindered, but it worried Ayatama not being able to release it if he had to.

As Marade danced, Ayatama’s focus grew tighter and tighter onto Marade, trying to figure out what he was doing. Slowly, to the point Ayatama almost didn’t register it happening, Marade’s form started changing, adding and changing clothes, his hair growing incredibly, until he started to resemble a Kirino, with a distorted red face and wild hair. Ayatama was sure it wasn’t a transformative genjutsu, though, since the drums and flutes still played in his ears.

“What do you think is going on?” Tasuke whispered to Makoto, who had fused back together. From his point of view, he only saw Ayatama growing more and more focused on Marade’s dancing, all life leaving his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Makoto replied. “I don’t know much about genjutsu. But something is clearly happening to Ayatama-sensei…”

As they watched, Ayatama’s muscles grew more and more relaxed, his shoulders starting to slouch. He remained still for so long before he started swaying along to Marade’s movements. 

Marade smirked. As he danced, Ayatama’s movements began to mimic his own more and more, until they were moving almost identically. Ayatama was exactly where Marade needed him.

By time Ayatama figured out what was happening, it was too late. To him, the focus and the waying felt like the natural progression of figuring out what Marade was doing, but he fell right into the trap. He fought with himself to release the genjutsu, but he couldn’twill himself to do it. He was Marade’s puppet now.

Marade stopped moving and pointed his fan at Ayatama, who obeyed the silent demand. Slowly, and very deliberately, Ayatama reached for his pack and took out a kunai knife. With a blank stare completely void of expression, he brought the edge of the kunai to his throat, pressing on the skin, but not breaking it.

Tasuke held his breath. He was only barely understanding what was happening. He didn’t necessarily know what Marade was doing, but he knew that Ayatama holding a knife to his throat was Marade’s fault. All of his muscles tensed up-- even to his heart, he was sure.

Once Marade was satisfied with the result, the released the genjutsu himself. Ayatama dropped stance, releasing a held breath that made him pant for air. He eyed up Marade, who smiled devilishly.

“Impressive,” Ayatama panted, “but an enemy wouldn’t be standing still like I did.”

“I know,” Marade replied, “it’s the jutsu’s fatal flaw. It’s not designed for fast-paced fighting, though. It’s designed for espionage.”

Ayatama straightened up, putting the kunai away. “I have to admit, you had me very well. Thats your ploy, though-- to keep the enemy guessing so long they don’t even realize what’s happening.”

“You guessed it. In the past, women of my family would sneak into performances where high-rolling customers watched and would dance for them using that jutsu. After that, they were putty in my family’s hands. We could make them do just about anything.”

“Your family has been very well-appreciated in the espionage division for generations now, and I see you’re no exception. I believe with enough work, all of your goals are well within reach.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Marade bowed slightly before taking his seat in front of the middle post. He noticed Tasuke’s nervous look and said, “Don’t worry. We only use our jutsus like that in the right circumstances. So you’re safe.” He then gave Tasuke a concerning look and added, “For now.” 

Tasuke tried to tell himself that it was a joke, but that was much easier said than done, and a nervous pit grew in his stomach. He could never quite tell when Marade was serious or not.

“Tasuke,” the genin jumped when Ayatama-sensei called his name, “it’s your turn.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course!” Tasuke scrambled to his feet and stepped forward, unslinging the scroll from his back. It stood just above his waist and the green trim of it had gold lettering representing the symbol of his clan. 

“Remember, Tasuke,” Ayatama added, seeing how nervous his student was, “you don’t have to worry about attacking me, only showing me what you can do.”

Tasuke nodded and took a breath to focus himself. He then set to work opening up his scroll, spreading it out on the ground in front of him like he was rolling out a runway. He handled the map with surprising dexterity, considering how nervous he was. He knelt down at the edge of the map and made a handsign to focus his chakra before making a series of them. “Terrain Change Jutsu!” he called, placing both of his hands on the map. 

A small point on the map glowed with chakra briefly before tendrils of chakra sprouted from it, reaching to the sides of the map. In a burst of smoke and warm energy, trees and grass appeared all through the area where the chakra reached, ingrained in the ground like they grew there the whole time. 

Tasuke rolled up the map, which was designed to roll up quickly, and made a dash for a tree, quickly scaling it to the canopy, where the leaves his him from sight.

Needless to say, the other shinobi were stunned. 

Ayatama reached out a hand to touch one of the trees. It felt as rough and solid as anything he’d ever touched.It wasno mere illusion or trick-- it was a real tree. Even the grass beneath his feet changed. Where he was standing, the grass had previously been worn and dry from training fights, but it was now rich and green, completely untouched by battle. As an extra step, Ayatama activated his Byakugan to see if there was any trick to the terrain around him. Besides a very small remnant of chakra in the area, they looked like every other tree he’d ever seen.

“Tasuke…” Ayatama was too stunned to even really finish the sentence at first. “Kai taught you this? How does it work?”

Tasuke climbed down from the tree in front of Ayatama. “Well, uh… the map works kind of the same way other summoning scrolls do. It’s infused with my chakra, but holds small samplings of terrain from around the world. As long as I know what the area is like, I can summon it. It grows from the existing terrain, so everything is completely real, but it doesn’t take the terrain from the original area, only changes everything around it. But all the fruit and plants are the same as in the real area.” He bent down and picked a patch of grass from the base of the tree. “Like, this was just grass before, but now it’s Sickelroot. If you eat it, it’ll make your tongue tingle.”

Ayatama took a piece of the grass in question and bit into it. Just like Tasuke had said, it made his mouth tingle down to his teeth. The original grass in the area would never do that. “That’s amazing,” Ayatama exclaimed. “I knew Kai was a specialist in summoning, but I never would have guess to this extent…” 

“He’s amazing. He;s the one that turned my father’s map into a weapon.”

“And how do you use this to fight?”

“Well, there’s lots of ways.” Most of the nervousness had left Tasuke’s voice-- he was clearly very excited and passionate about this subject. “Like I said this morning, my family and I used to travel all over. We know how different areas of the world work than most people. Some people might not know that the grass around the outside of Kiobaki Temple is acidic and can burn their skin, but I do, and if I summoned an area around the temple, I’m the one that would be safe.”

Ayatama was more than amazed at Tasuke’s knowledge of the world. He himself had only heard rumors about the acidic grass of Kiobaki, but Tasuke seemed to know it down to the facts. Ayatama was sure Tasuke could make this ability of his work to his advantage. “This is truly an amazing feat, Tasuke. I don’t know why you were nervous about showing me this.”

“It’s not offensive like Makoto’s or Marade’s jutsus…”

“Tasuke… no, wait.” Ayatama turned to face his other students, who were still gawking at the sight of Tasuke’s jutsus. “You two need to hear this too. Being a shinobi and fighting as a ninja isn’t always about rushing into battle and trying to land as much damage as you can. A mindset like that can get you killed-- and I speak from experience. I urge you all to have a defensive position at the ready, because sometimes the choice between your life and the mission is answered with your life.”

“Yes, sensei,” Marade said as Makoto nodded. She seemed the most awed by Tasuke’s jutsu.

“Good. Now, I’d like to continue training as we would on a normal day.” They did just that, starting with Ayatama guiding his students through a relaxed meditation, talking up their motivation and clearing their minds. It was something Ayatama had done with his last set of students and it produced some impressive results , as it tightened their focus. 

Ayatama focused that particular lesson on chakra control, having his students pick up sticks without using their fingers. He always saved the slightly more advanced techniques, such as walking up solid surfaces, until they had a mission or two under their belts.

After several hours of focused and disciplined training, Ayatama sent his students home with throbbing hands and tired cores. Although Makoto picked up the technique the fastest, she still had by far the worst control of her chakra. She tried to get Ayatama to stay to help her practice more, but Ayatama already had plans.

Even being held up talking to Makoto, Ayatama was still early meeting his friends for dinner at the barbeque restaurant. They met together every so often and took turns choosing which restaurant to eat at. Ayatama always picked the same restaurant, the barbecue place that let you cook for own food. He was too particular about his food to enjoy most other places.

Although he was early, Ayatama didn’t have to wait long. As soon as his server brought his water, his friends walked in together. Sitting next to him was Shioni Aburame, who offered a pleasant greeting as he sat down. Ashi Inuzuka sat across from them to her dog, Shiromaru, could sit up on the bench next to her.

“Hey, Aya,” Ashi said, grinning wide. A few of her teeth were chipped or even knocked out, leading to quite an interesting smile. “Did your kid tell you I saw him?”

“Tasuke?” Ayatama replied, “Yes, he did. You scared him half to death.”

Ashi let out a howling laugh, apparently forgetting she was inside a restaurant. “I told him not to be scared! It’s not my fault he didn’t listen.”

“That’s not how it works,” Shioni said matter-of-factly. If Shioni had one fatal flaw, it was that he rarely, if ever, got the joke. 

“Don’t worry about it. Tasuke’s the kind of kid who’s afraid of his own shadow,” Ayatama told them as the waitress set down a plate of meat to be cooked. He had their order memorized and ordered before they’d got there.

“Scared of his own shadow, can you believe it?” Ashi snarked, immediately making work of cooking some pork for only a bit before eating it. “Gonna be a great ninja…”

“Oh, I think he is, actually. You should see the jutsu he developed for himself.”

“He’s the student from the Ryokoka clan, right?” Shioni asked, following up Ashi on the grill.

“Right. He worked with Kai Suzurei, that chunin summoning specialist. I swear I’m not making it up when I say Tasuke can summon entire areas of wood and desert. It’s unbelieveable.”

“That shrimp?” Ashi scoffed. “I don’t believe that. I could step on him.” That particular statement made Ayatama roll his eyes. As tough and scrappy as Ashi was, she barely cleared five feet tall. Being on a team together, people have noted how peculiar it was that tiny Ashi was on team with Ayatama, who was well over a six feet. When they stood next to each other, Ashi looked half her age.

“Tasuke is small, shy, and not very strong, but he’s intelligent. He knows more about survival than even you, Ashi,” Ayatama explained, watching his food cook carefully. “When he changes the terrain around him, he instantly has the homefield advantage, no matter what the original terrain was. I think he’d be quite a match for your team.”

Ashi groaned and put her head to the table. Shiromaru had to nudge some of her hair away with his snout to keep it from burning on the grill. “My students wouldn’t be ‘quite a match’ for anyone.”

“And why’s that?” Shioni asked, knowing Ayatama wouldn’t have.

“They’re ridiculous, Shio. Only one of them is motivated at all to learn, and he’s crazy.” Ashi sat back up, setting a new line of meat on the grill. “Inoko Yamanaka. That’s his name, the crazy one. He’s got one jutsu, Shio. One. Jutsu.”

“Well how many did you have at that age?” Ayatama asked, his smirk lost to Ashi’s eyes. 

“You get the point! He’s a weird kid. He’s always happy and excited, it’s unreal. I decked him right in the jaw yesterday and he just jumped back up and came at me. It’s like pain fuels him. I still like him better than the other two, though.”

“You shouldn’t be picking favorites,” Shioni informed. “Besides, what’s wrong with the other two?”

“What  _ isn’t _ wrong with them is a better question. I have an Akimichi. Her name’s Choichi. All she does is run off to eat and she’s not focused. She also wouldn’t charge me. Can you believe it? An Akimichi that wouldn’t charge me! But the worst is Shikata Nara. That kid drives me up the damn wall.” She was apparently so upset with Shikata that she needed to fuel herself for the rest of the conversation, as she downed the fresh meat she’d just put on the grill. “Shikata is always sneaking away to sleep. And he can sleep anywhere, so I never know where to find him. Worst of all is that he’s smart. Not nearly as smart as Shio here, but pretty damn smart. He’ll tie something of his to a tree he’s not in to throw off Shiromaru’s tracking. He’s snarly and rude and unmotivated and--  _ AUGH!! _ ” She turned around and buried her face in Shiromaru’s fur. Shiromaru, in response, only wagged his tail, completely used to Ashi’s erratic behavior.

Ayatama tried to ignore the dozen pair of eyes that were suddenly on them from the other patrons of the restaurant. “Uhm… I’m sorry to hear that.”

Ashi pulled away from her dog, completely calm just like that. “You know the strangest thing?”

“What’s that?”

“He was the only one that beat me in a battle. He lured me under the tree he was sleeping in then caught me in a strong Shadow Possession Jutsu using the tree’s shadow. It was unreal…”

“You shouldn’t have let yourself get caught like that,” Shioni said passively, taking a sip of the water the server had brought during Ashi’s outburst.

“Uhm, I’m  _ blind _ , Shio. I don’t think about the shadows that often.”

“That’s true,” Ayatama agreed. “Can you even sense the shadows at all?”

“Well… sort of.” Ashi leaned back in her seat, suddenly in thought. “I can feel which direction the sun is and I can guess how long the shadows are but that’s about it. I can’t do it well. Not enough to avoid his jutsu. I’ve gotta work on it.”

“Kujira-sensei pulled me aside before I was assigned my first team and gave me some advice. He said, ‘The best way to train your students is to know how to beat them.’” 

“And I’m gonna kick his ass! I’m thinking of having Shiro play decoy.” She scratched Shiromaru roughly and lovingly on the shoulders

“What about your other students, Ayatama?” Shioni asked to steer the conversation.

“Makoto Niimoto and Marade Nokabuki,” Ayatama said, taking just a moment to think of what to say. “Makoto is a strong fighter, and she uses some great tactics, but she’s all about brute force. I’m worried about how reckless she is. 

“Marade on the other hand…” Ayatama stalled by taking a sip of his drink. “I fell for his genjutsu. It wouldn’t happen again-- part of its effectiveness is the victim not knowing what’s happening.”

“Genjutsu is a unique and difficult style of fighting,” Shioni commented. “To have a jonin fall for it under any circumstances is incredible. I think he’ll be quite a challenge for Ashi’s Yamanaka student.”

“What about your students, Shioni?” Ayatama invited him into the conversation. “We’ve only talked about ours.”

“My students graduated a year before yours. They tragically lost their sensei recently, so they were assigned to me. Ushi Tekisasu, Aouba Sakuno, and Suna kara Hikaro.”

“Suna kara Hikaro?” Ayatama paused from his drink, shocked by the name. “Hikaro from the Sand.”

“Yes. He’s from the Hidden Sand Village.”

“He’s the boy they found in the woods?”

“... Yes.” 

The pause in Shioni’s voice made Ayatama wonder if there was something more, but he didn’t ask. 

“Hikaro doesn’t talk much about his life before he came here.”

“Understandable. I heard about the condition he was in when he was found.”

“Me too,” Ashi contributed. “That poor kid, getting all fucked up like that.”

“The other two,” Shioni said sharply, changing the subject so clearly even Ashi got the hint, “are fantastic with their weapons-- beyond their age in skill. Aouba can hit a bullseye he can barely see, and Ushi can rope a beetle with a line of thread. They’re good kids.”

It wasn’t much like Shioni to be so brief about something he cared about, and Ayatama knew he cared about his students. Still, he didn’t bring anything up, knowing Shioni would talk about it when he wanted to.

“It seems we’re going to have some interesting matches between our students, come the chunin exams,” Ayatama offered.

Ashi snorted. “You’re not really considering the exams already.”

“I was talking to Lady Hokage in passing. She said she was going to encourage younger students to participate this time around because of the size of the graduating class.”

“Before she died, my students’ original sensei was preparing them for the exams. I think, with enough training, they’ll be able to hold their own just fine.”

“The chunin exams…” Ayatama muttered nostalgically, resting his tea against his lip. As the warm steam filled his nose, warm memories of the chunin exams filled his brain. At first, only Shioni was promoted of the three of them. He turned down the promotion, however, to retake the exam with Ashi and Ayatama. Shioni always said it was because he felt he wasn’t ready to be a chunin, but it was hard to tell if that was the truth or not. Ayatama liked to believe it, but Ashi thought it was because he felt bad about being the only one promoted. Nonetheless, Ayatama’s second attempt at the exam shaped him as a shinobi, as they often do.

The three teammates chatted, reminiscing about their time in the chunin exams, sometimes laughing, sometimes growing solemn. It brought them back to when they were young, but as the sun set, they had to return to their grown lives and part ways, waving goodbye until another time. 

When he got home, Ayatama counted the days on his clander. 

He wondered if he could get his team ready for the chunin exams in only five months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i literally dont care about editing #swerve)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this ones about makoto

“She tackled a bull!” Marade yelled, gesturing wildly at the scene unfolding before him, “She just tackled a bull!”

Ayatama couldn’t help but cringe at the scene. He watched from his vantage point on the roof, decidedly not helping the genin on their first mission. He’d swoop in if the situationed turned dire, but Makoto, split into two, seemed to be holding the bull off and away from the farmer’s son, who had fallen off the fence and into the bull’s pen, agitating it enough to try and trample the boy.

“You can help me, you know,” Makoto said through clenched teeth, sweat dripping off her chin. She didn’t have time to turn her mask around, and it was killing her that everyone could see the distress she was in, but she’d rather that than watch a kid get trampled to death.

“And what do you want me to do? I don’t think genjutsu will work on a bull.”

Boiling over, Makoto snapped at Tasuke next, who had been on the outskirts of the situation, shaking wildly with nerves, sure he was about to witness a death on his first mission. “ _ Tasuke! _  Grab the kid!”

A weak noise rose from Tasuke’s throat, but he seemed immobilized. 

“Are you kidding!?” both Makotos yelled in unison, one to each team member. The bull gave a heave, and Makoto snapped back to attention, digging into the ground to keep balance. 

Ayatama sighed and closed his book, setting down his pen and papers, and jumping down to scoop the kid up in his arms. “Makoto, let it go,” he said as he hopped over the fence.

Each Makoto jumped to a side, letting the bull loose. It ran harmlessly into the fence, which miraculously didn’t give way. After a few tries, the bull simply turned around and sauntered back into the barn.

Ayatama left the boy with his mother, who thanked the jounin relentlessly, then turned to his students. While Tasuke was white as a sheet, Makoto’s face was flushed with anger as she fused back into one. “Tasuke, Marade, I want you two to get back to work.” Knowing what trouble they could’ve been in, they quickly scampered back to the field, leaving Ayatama to talk to Makoto.

“Don’t be mad at them, Makoto,” Ayatama said sternly.

Makoto turned around to talk to him face-to-face, covering her face with her mask, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“They weren’t raised like you. They didn’t have your discipline.”

“Then why are you yelling at me?” She ground her teeth to keep from raising her voice at an elder.

“I’m not yelling. I’m just letting you know-- reminding you that your teammates aren’t like you. I’ll be talking to them, too, but I was more concerned with you right now. You looked half ready to slaughter them.”

Makoto scowled beneath her mask. That was why she hated not having it.

“They’re still growing in ways you’ve already matured. You were born a shinobi, and they’re still working their ways into it. Let them be.”

After a drudging silence between them, Makoto bowed to her teacher. “Yes, sir.”

“Now go get back to work. We want to be done before it gets too hot out.” With that, he left Makoto alone, returning to his vantage point on the roof. 

As much as Ayatama wanted to resume his studies, he couldn't help but focus intensely on his students. Much of the strong work was left to Makoto, who was physically the strongest of the three. She didn’t seem to mind the work when it was suggested to her, but Ayatama couldn’t help but notice how often she watched the boys in the western field, ploughing the earth and sowing seeds. 

“Makoto,” Ayatama called down, “would you rather be working in the fields?”

There was a long moment of silence contemplation. Makoto had never been asked if she wanted to do something-- she was always so used to taking orders. “Uhm… I’m content with this work, Ayatama-sensei.”

“That’s not what I asked, Makoto. When I ask a question, I want it to be answered in full.” Ayatama didn’t like talking down to his students, but Makoto seemed far more comfortable being talked to that way. “Now, tell me. Would you rather be out in the fields?”

There was another long pause, where Makoto just stared up at Ayatama, occasionally looking over at the boys.

“Makoto?”

“Yes, sir,” Makoto’s answer snapped at the slight inclination of a threat.

Ayatama nodded, then cupped his hands around his mouth to call out, “Tasuke!” Far from a small man, Ayatama’s voice boomed through the hills, picking up Tasuke’s attention with ease. “I want you to switch jobs with Makoto.”

Tasuke yelled back something which must have been an affirmation, as he dropped the bag of seeds and ran back towards the animal pens, switching out with Makoto.

Although moving boards from barn to barn wasn’t the best task to pair up with Tasuke, Ayatama needed someone with a stronger tell than Marade. Luckily, it was made very clear to Ayatama why Makoto wanted to change jobs: whenever Tasuke picked up a board, he flinched as the splinters dug into his hands. However, unlike Makoto who simply bore the pain, Tasuke took the time to try different grips on the wood before carrying it over.

Ayatama released a heavy sigh and returned to his book. Truth be told, Ayatama saw a lot of his young self in Makoto. They shared a similar mask, although Makoto’s was more literal. They were both bound by their clans, although Ayatama hoped Makoto’s situation was much less painful than his own. Most of all, though, they shared the quality that Ayatama’s teammates hated the most-- the complete lack of self-preservation. It was a skill Ayatama had only learned years after running away, and he wanted to instill it in Makoto as soon as he could, before it cost her something dear the way it did to him. 

It was time to call in a favor or two.

 

\---

 

They met the next morning outside Lady Hokage’s building. She was a busy woman and couldn’t be bothered to hand out low-ranking missions herself, so Ayatama talked to one of her assistants to get their mission, which was surely something as menial as being a farmhand. It was only their second mission, and genin rarely received a mission higher than D-rank, which was almost always a menial task bought out by a rich person.

The genin waited outside in relative silence, other than Marade’s humming. He had such a nice voice that it had something of a calming effect on Tasuke, which was probably a good thing. Ayatama-sensei had been in the Hokage’s office for so long, he was starting to worry that something was going wrong.

“What’s taking him so long?” Makoto was the first to speak up.

Marade stopped his humming and thought for a second before saying, “Maybe he’s being apprehended.”

“Stop, you’ll scare Tasuke,” Makoto scolded, seeming to sense the hitch in Tasuke’s breath.

Marade laughed a far too guttural laugh for something that wasn’t exactly funny. “I’m just kidding around. There’s probably just a problem with getting the mission is all. Maybe someone was talking to the assistant.” A glimmer came to his eyes and he turned to Tasuke, plastic as ever. “You know what could be happening, right?”

Tasuke’s heart all but stopped. “W-what?”

“A lady’s in there right now. She’s crying to the assistant, ‘Sir, please sir! They’re trying to kill me!’ A band of assassins is after her and Ayatama-sensei is listening to her sob story and he walks in--” Marade stood on his toes and puffed out his chest in a sad imitation of Ayatama-- “‘Ma’am, all other shinobi are out but my three genin!’ She then cries into his chest--” he imitated the woman, burying his face in Makoto’s chest, taking her hand and speaking in an ugly falsetto, “-- ‘Oh, my hero! Please let me use your genin as meat shields as I go about my day!’ And that’s going to be our mission today.”

Tasuke’s face went pale and Marade snickered to himself. Makoto scowled and shoved Marade off of her, sending him to the ground. “That’s not what’s happening, Tasuke,” she reassured, “that would never happen.”

Marade let out another laugh. “Of course it wouldn’t!” He jokingly punched Tasuke in the thigh and added, “But it sure got you riled up, didn’t it?”

Tasuke blushed and turned away from Marade, who was still laughing to himself when Ayatama finally walked out of the building. 

All three genin snapped to attention as Ayatama explained, “Sorry about that. I was stuck rallying with another jounin trying to get this mission for us. I think it suits our desires better.”

“How so?” Marade asked, “What is it?”

“A cat from a local cat show ran away into the woods.”

A fire suddenly burned in Tasuke’s eyes. “A cat!?”

The team all looked at him, dumbfounded by his sudden outburst.

“Uhm… yes,” Ayatama responded cautiously. 

“Then what are we doing standing around here!?” Tasuke started gesturing broadly to the woods surrounding Konoha, taking small steps to try and get his teammates to head out. “There’s a cat lost in the woods! He could get hurt, we have to go!”

“Uh, y-yes. Let’s go,” Ayatama commanded and the team set off

 

The team dashed through the woods, led surprisingly by Tasuke, who seemed to have his heart, soul, and his life in the mission. As they ran toward the area the cat was last seen, Ayatama and Makoto fell back to talk to each other, Makoto’s face covered by her mask.

Marade narrowed his eyes at them and caught up with Tasuke. “Hey,” he hissed, catching Tasuke’s attention. “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“What are you talking about?”

Marade nodded toward Ayatama and Makoto.

“What about them?”

“This is the second mission in a row where she’s getting talked to alone by Ayatama-sensei.”

“So?”

“You don’t think that’s weird?”

“No. Ayatama talks to me alone too.”

“But you didn’t get switched to the easiest job after he did.”

“I don’t get what you’re saying.”

“I think something’s up.”

Tasuke searched Marade’s face for some sign of what he was getting at, trying to see if Marade was just trying to get a rise out of him again. When he found nothing, he snapped back forward and said, “Whatever. We have to find the cat.”

“Tasuke!” Ayatama called out ahead to his student, “This was where they lost sight of the cat.”

Tasuke stopped on a dime and Marade ran into him, full-force, tumbling into the clearing that had opened up before them. 

“It seems strange that they'd lose her in a clearing,” Tasuke noted. 

“It was just the woman and her friends looking for her. She probably ran into the woods and that's when they went to Lady Hokage.”

Again, the fire in Tasuke’s eyes burned. “Then we have to find her! The cat show is tonight! We should split up and--”

“Not so fast, Tasuke. You three wait here while I check the perimeter with my Byakugan.”

“Yes sir,” all three replied, and their sensei took to the trees, leaving them in the field to wait. 

Tasuke couldn't seem to sit still, though. He was constantly shifting his weight, glancing all around him and walking as close as he could to the edge of the clearing. 

Marade and Makoto exchanged looks. 

“Uh, Tasuke,” Marade spoke. 

“Hm?” Tasuke asked without looking away from the woods. 

“Are you, like… okay?”

“I'm just worried about the cat.”

“Why?” Makoto asked, “We’re going to find her.”

“But she’s all lost and alone!” Tasuke turned to his teammates, genuine worry dripping from his eyes. “What if she runs into a big dog or can't find something to eat or falls in the river or--”

“Tasuke, calm down,” Marade all but begged. “We're gonna find her and she'll be fine.”

“What about the cat show?” Tasuke seemed just as worried about the cat show as the mission. 

“We have all day, we’ll get her there in time.”

“I'm just worried is all…”

“You don't have to worry about the cat show.”

“Why not?” Tasuke asked, turning back to Marade. 

“What?” He cocked an eyebrow. “I didn't say anything.”

“That's right,” a voice said as the reality sunk into the genin, “I did.”

The three genin became instantly alert, naturally taking a stance where they were all back-to-back. A man wearing head-to-toe black stepped out of the cover of the woods, carrying a squirming black bag and holding a kunai against it. 

“Hillary!” Tasuke gasped the cat's name. It thrashed about in response. “Let her go!”

“Okay, I'll let her go. After the cat show’s over!”

Rage boiled up in Tasuke’s chest, releasing itself in a loud, “YOU MONSTER!!”

“Really?” Marade asked his teammate, “That's what makes him a monster?”

Before anything could come of that, a black blur flew past them, taking Makoto with it. She skidded across the ground, bumping up against a tree which rendered her unconscious. 

Marade quickly took her place, filling up the space in the back of their formation. He couldn't help but let out a noise when he ended up face-to face with another person in all black who had even taken the time to bend down so they were at eye level. He barely got a kunai out of his pack fast enough to block the attacker’s own knife, centimeters from his face. 

Tasuke pulled a knife from his pack, but hesitated what to do with it. His focus wouldn’t shale away from the man holding Hillary hostage. Tasuke couldn’t see his face, but he was sure he was smirking. He was alerted to a sound, and made a quick decision, turning around and throwing the knife at the second person in all black, who was hovering over Makoto menacingly. It got them in the shoulder before disappearing in a puff of smoke, revealing a substitution jutsu. Tasuke at least learned that they were probably a woman, judging by the sound she made when the initial contact was made.

Meanwhile, Marade was being forced to the ground. He tried to keep one knee up, but rested all of his weight against the other folded under him as his assailant pressed on. “It’s a cat!” He cried out, “It’s just a cat!”

“A cat that could end up costing us load of money,” the first man explained, still safely away from danger. “This cat right here is the only threat our purebred has in the show, and we’re willing to do anything to secure our winning place, including releasing Hillary into the woods.”

The man laughed and anger heated up Tasuke’s lungs like an oven. He took a step toward the man, but was cut off. “Tasuke, no!”

Marade heaved his assailant, who was nearly twice the size of the other two, just enough to roll out from under his attack and charge at the woman, who was making her way toward Makoto again. He grabbed her sleeve as leverage for a punch, but was easily thrown off, landing him in front of Tasuke again. At the very least, he was able to throw his kunai, forcing the woman to jump back from Makoto again.

“Tasuke!” Marade called up from the ground, “Can you--” He locked eyes with Tasuke, who was drained of color as the large man clapped a hand on his shoulder. His eyes said,  _ Tell my family I love them. _

The man threw Tasuke into the middle of the clearing. He went sent tumbling head-over-heels, but miraculously ended up standing on his feet. Marade’s jaw dropped at it as Tasuke shrugged.

Marade shook the distraction from his thoughts and jumped to his feet, using the very brief moment of safety to pull out his fan, flipping it open and running between the woman and Makoto. He formed a hand sign as he danced the fan around in his hand in front of the woman. All he needed was to hypnotize her enough to get her to lay off Makoto; then he could focus on the other two. 

It was just about starting to work, the woman swaying in time with Marade’s fan. Her eyes weren’t visible, but her relaxed body language made it clear. 

The smug grin crawling across Marade’s lips was a bit preemptive, though. Just as he lowered his fan to walk away, the woman quickly stiffened up and threw a low punch to Marade’s gut, sending him back.

As Marade recovered, he furrowed his brow. Although he felt the contact of the punch, the actual power behind it was missing. But if she hadn’t followed through on the punch, he wouldn’t have fallen back. As he questioned what was really going on, he glanced over at his teammate.

Tasuke, abandoning Hillary with a heavy heart, took over Marade’s spot protecting Makoto, this time from two people. He held off the large man’s knife with his kunai, using his free hand to support his shaking arm. Just like Marade had been before, Tasuke was being pushed back through the dirt beneath his feet.

The creases between Marade’s eyebrows deepened. The big guy could eat Tasuke in two bites, why was he not obliterating the kid? And the woman was creeping toward Makoto painfully slowly. Come to think of it, despite Marade and Tasuke being knocked back almost constantly, neither of them had so much as laid a hand on Makoto.

“Okay, really, what’s going on here?” Marade called to the man holding the cat hostage. 

From his hiding spot a few meters away, Ayatama sighed. He knew one of them was bound to figure it out. He zipped over to the clearing, which signaled the three attackers to stop. 

Tasuke wasn’t about to stop, though. The second he saw an opening, he dashed for the man holding Hillary, knife in hand. He jumped to meet the man’s level but was snatched out of the air by Ayatama. 

“Calm down, Tasuke,” Ayatama scolded his student.

The man collapsed the black bag the held Hillary, proving that it was empty. Tasuke went stiff as a board in Ayatama’s arms. “W-what?”

“Let us explain…”

 

The three genin were seated in the ground, facing their three assailants. They'd been revealed as three jonin that looked familiar to the genin due to their strong resemblance each of them had to their children. Before them stood Inozon Yamanaka, Shikaza Nara, and Chokehold Akimichi, the parents of Inoko, Shikata, and Choichi. 

Inozon was a gruff looking man who loved his son more than anything in the world. He shared the same vigor for life and learning as Inoko, as well as a similar spirit. However, he was most well-known for his tidy handlebar mustache. 

Shikaza was probably the least similar to her son, Shikata, but not in looks. Much like Shikata, she was very petite and unassuming. She had the same wiry black hair, but it was well-kept compared to her son's, and she never looked tired. She had a reputation for being stern but sympathetic. 

Chokehold was Choichi’s father and a personal friend of Tasuke’s. When he was young, Chokehold would have Tasuke over for dinner and to help Choichi study. Some days, he saw Chokehold as much as his own father. Chokehold’s name and imposing size and stature might leave some to believe he was a ninja with a rock-hard attitude, but Tasuke knew him to be one of the kindest and softest men alive. His nickname came from his signature attack. 

Tasuke stared at the jonin, confused why someone he considered a personal friend would ever attack him on a mission. 

Ayatama stood in front of his students, shoulders back and lingering in silence to establish his position. “Makoto,” he addressed his student in a tone much gentler than his demeanor, “how do you feel now?”

Tasuke and Marade turned to Makoto curiously. “Much better,” she answered plainly from behind her mask.

“About what?” Marade asked.

“I talked to Makoto after our first mission,” Ayatama  explained. “She told me she didn’t feel appreciated by you two.”

“What?” Tasuke turned to his teammate, “Makoto, did you really?”

Makoto didn’t respond. She wouldn’t even look up from the ground. 

“You left her completely alone to do the heavy lifting and refused to help her when she was fending off a rampaging bull. Do you understand how that would make someone feel?”

Although there was a silence between all of them, Marade finally spoke up in a tone that mimicked monologuing more than speaking. “You’re right, sensei. I understand how that can lead someone to feel unappreciated.”

“You take this seriously, Marade. That’s why I set up this situation. After we arrived back in the village, I had a talk with Makoto. She confessed that she felt you two wouldn’t defend her. That’s a dangerous, dangerous concern to have.”

Marade was clearly offended by this, but Tasuke was much more worried. He glanced over at Makoto, but couldn’t get any read on her.

“Makoto had to see for herself that you would defend her and keep her alive if you could. And although you still had eyes on your mission, you were still overwhelmingly concerned with defending her. I devised a plan with these three--” he motioned toward Ino-Shika-Cho, “--to allow Makoto to safely see you defend her.”

“My Shadow Possession Jutsu was never far from you,” Shikaza explained, “so I could catch you if you took a particularly bad stumble.” She shot a sarcastic look at Chokehold.

“I agreed to this because I felt it close to my heart,” Inozon explained. “When I use my Mind Transfer Jutsu, my body collapses and I’m unable to defend myself. I rely on my teammates-- on Shikaza and Chokehold-- to protect it. Without them, I’d be dead by now by my own jutsu.”

Marade scowled. “We’ve been taught that sacrificing our lives is due part of being a shinobi, and now you’re telling us all this?”

“Sacrifice is part of being a ninja, that’s right,” Ayatama explained, “but if you can complete a mission or win a battle with everyone alive, that’s even better. Three ninja are better than two, and 100 is better than 99. Sacrifice will happen whether we want it to or not, but the preservation of life is something we should strive for. Do you understand, Marade?”

Marade carefully darted his eyes around to the others. Besides Makoto who was unreadable, everyone seemed ready for his answer. He took a breath and answered, “Yes, sir.”

Ayatama was wary of his answer, but accepted it nonetheless. “Good. And Tasuke?”

“Yes, sir,” Tasuke answered genuinely. He had faced loss before-- something that Marade had been lucky enough to avoid thus far-- and understood. He had the kind of empathy that allowed him to replace Makoto in this exercise with someone he loved. His parents came to mind. 

Ayatama had doubts about Marade’s capacity for empathy, but figured he was looking too far into it. He dismissed his students, citing they would meet up to train again later in the afternoon. 

Tasuke and Marade shared more of the walk home than Ayatama and Makoto, leaving the boys to talk. 

“That was a colossal waste of time,” Marade grumbled, arms crossed. 

“Oh? I don't think it was. I mean, it was the first time we were really faced with that situation.”

“I know when to protect teammates and when to go for the mission. I'm not stupid.” Marade halted in his tracks and Tasuke briefly considered just continuing on down the road. 

“You can think you know what to do all the time until you have the situation in front of you. It happens all the time out in the woods.”

“This isn't the woods, Tasuke. This is serious ninja business.”

Tasuke wanted to groan.  _ Someone like him would never survive in the wild,  _ his father would say. “There's a lot of comparisons you can draw between survival and being a shinobi. There's probably some for acting too.”

“Oh yeah, Like what?” 

“Well, like… Missions are kind of like building shelters. There's a lot you can make and there's a lot of directions a mission can go, but unless you've built the same shelter out of the same material in the same place at the same time, you never know for sure how it'll go.”

Marade rolled his eyes. “I meant with acting.”

Tasuke’s cheeks flushed, feeling inexplicably angry at the question. “I… I don't know.”

“So it's not exactly how you think.”

“... I guess not,” Tasuke replied, turning around to walk home before Marade could pull him into another conversation. 

After the fake mission, all Tasuke wanted to do was see his own cats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be longer but if it ended where i wanted it to itd be 3 years long


End file.
